The Game of Love
by ThisIsOneHellOfAUserName
Summary: The Game of Love. Sounds corny? Well, love is basically that, a load of crap. At least, if you're not in love. If you are, then it's wonderful. It cheers you up on a cloudy day. It makes you happy when you're at your worst. If only he would love her back.


I started to write a compleatly different story, and then this popped out. I think it's pretty dang good. So. Tell me what you think. PLEASE reveiw. I want people's oppinions on my work before I write anything else.

Disclaimer; I do not own InuYasha or any characters associated with it.

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Miroku swung his staff up fast. The golden color blurred to the sudden movement as it flashed before his eyes. The rings clattered together noisily, their ring echoing off the trees and into the distance. The demon slashed at him from behind now. How did it move so fast? Miroku spun around to block from behind. The demon's enormous claw slammed into the center of his Shakujou, pushing the staff to his body. Miroku clenched his teeth. This was truly difficult. He opened his mouth in a battle cry, flinging one side of his staff to meet with the demon's callused hand. It had blocked it. The demon curled his fingers around the golden rod and snapped it clear in half. Miroku's face grew pale as he dropped the remaining half.

"Hirakotsu!" Sango yelled as she hurled her gigantic weapon at the demon. It was caught off guard and was easily sliced clean into two. The other piece of the Shakujou pierced the ground and stood, sticking straight up where the demon had just been. Miroku stared at it in despair.

"Houshi-sama!" Sango shouted, running over to him. "Houshi-sama, are you alright?" She stood in front of him, staring at his face. Concern showed clearly in her eyes. Her brow was furrowed and her mouth was a thin line.

"Y-yeah…" Miroku responded. He stared at his broken weapon again. How could he had let this happen?! That was his father's staff! Sango followed his gaze. She gasped. Squatting down, she picked up the two halves. The sunlight reflected off them, glaring into Miroku's eyes. He sighed. This was just great.

"I'm so sorry Houshi-sama…This must have been important to you…"

"It's fine," Miroku replied, "There's no means of fixing it now. I'll just have to get a new one."

Sango blinked up at him. Then she stood. "I can fix it."

Miroku looked at her quizzically. He took the fragments into his wind tunnel hand.

"Really?"

Sango smiled. "Yes. But we must go to my village. If you don't mind."

Miroku smiled back giddily, "Of course I don't mind! Lets go!"

Miroku sub-consciously grabbed her hand and pulled her to the awaiting Kirara. He entwined his fingers into hers intimately, squeezing her palm against his. Sango blushed . She could feel his pulse through his warm, smooth skin. Miroku looked back at her. His eyebrow raised at her expression. She glanced at their hands, then back up at him. A light blush painted itself on her cheeks yet again.

"Sorry!" He said, realizing what he had done. He released her hand and turned away.

"I-it's ok…" Sango replied, bringing her hand to her chest. She felt her heart beat fast.

Miroku boarded Kirara hastily. Sango placed herself in front of him, holding her weapon against the side of Kirara. Miroku sighed again. Normally, he would place the Shakujou through the space between her arms and her stomach. It was a safety measure, or that's what he would tell others. Actually, it was just an excuse to get close to Sango. Now he would have to keep his distance. Unless he wrapped his arms around her…No. That would be moving way to fast. She did say she would bear his children, but that was only after they defeated Naraku. If he made any advances before then she would surely beat him to death.

Kirara leapt into the air, causing the forces of gravity to propel their every strand of hair and their every inch of cloths down, plastering themselves against their forms. Finally, the cat demon reached her comfortable height and began to fly in her straight line.

"So," Miroku stated, trying to start a conversation, "How do you propose you are going to fix my staff?"

"I can't tell you that monk." Sango replied coyly.

Miroku smiled down at the top of her head. She turned back to face him, also smiling.

"And why ever not?"

"Because," she responded, "it's a secret of my people. If I told you, then I wouldn't be very good at keeping secrets now would I?"

Miroku's smile widened. "Hmmm… I suppose you wouldn't. Does this mean I'm exiled from your workspace? Or am I allowed to accompany you?"

"Well, I would let you, considering we're most likely going to be living t-together in the future…" Sango stuttered at the thought of living with him. She blushed lightly, then continued, "But I have to take off a bit of clothes to do the job. It's a type of blacksmithing so I will need to raise the hem of my kimono up. And I don't trust you that much quite yet."

Miroku figured this was an invitation to grope her. He placed his hand over the top of her high thigh and groped. Sango blushed. He had never done it there before. She looked back up at him, that stupid grin plastered onto his face. O well. At least she succeeded in cheering him up.

Kirara roared loudly as they approached the village of the demon slayers. The two turned their attention to the structure before them. The wall now had vines crawling up the sides, the houses molding. Moss and grass now coated more that half the area, as well as a few weeds sprouting up here and there. Some of the graves had been dug up, bodies missing.

Sango gasped when she saw this. As soon as Kirara landed, she jumped off and ran over to the disturbed ground. She dropped to her knees in front of what used to be her father's grave. She clutched the soil in her palms and hid her eyes behind her bangs. Her father's weapon was broken in three pieces and scattered around the hole. Sango dared to look into the black pit. Her father's body was never there to begin with, but his armor was supposed to be there. Of course, it was gone. All that remained of her father had been stolen or destroyed. Sango suppressed a sob. Why did these things happen to her?

Miroku ran to her side and squatted down next to her. Sango tried her hardest not to cry out, but she couldn't help it any longer. Tears flowed silently from her glossed eyes, her mouth a wobbling line. She hid her face in her hands, ashamed to show her weakness in front of Miroku. He stared at her, pain in his eyes. He hated seeing the woman he loved in so much despair. Miroku didn't know what to do. Should he comfort her? Or just stay by her?

"Sango…" he whispered. He wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders, pulling her into a tight embrace. Sango's eyes widened and her crying was stifled. She looked up at him quizzically. Miroku gazed down upon her, a serious expression etched on his face. He pushed some loose strands of hair behind her ear and stroked her cheek with his thumb as he held her face in his hand.

"Please don't cry," he stated, "It pains me when you do…"

"M-Miroku…" Sango stuttered. She regained control of herself, then tried to switch the conversation away from herself. "What do you mean by that?"

Miroku gulped. This was it. He had to tell her.

"Well?"

"Sango….I…We need to talk. This is driving me crazy. I'm sick of playing this game with you. I need to know how you feel about me. Honestly and truthfully." He grasped her hands and held them in his own. Squeezing them slightly, he gazed into her surprised eyes. Her lip trembled in nervousness. Should she tell him? Or continue the "game" she was playing with him?

"I…I don't…want to talk about this right now…I'm quite upset about my family and friends."

Miroku mentally cursed himself. How insensitive of him. He brought up a troublesome topic when she needed comfort. Now he had burdened her with unnecessary thoughts.

Sango stood. She moved to the start of the line of the graves and began to place the remains back into the holes. She then followed that by covering the hole with the moist earth. Then she moved down a grave and repeated the process. Miroku also stood and walked over to her.

"Sango…I'm sorry…I didn't mean to-"

Sango blew him off completely by moving down to the next grave. How dense could he be? It was bad enough that he had tried to court her at a time like that, but then he insisted on talking to her when she was trying to perform a moment of silence and respect. Men…so stupid.

Miroku sighed. "Can I at least help you?"

"If you must. Just be sure to be quiet. I'd like whatever respect my family has left to be preserved."

After they had finished, they were both covered in dirt. They're hands were caked with dry soil and calluses from the hard work. Not to mention they were both drenched in sweat. Sango pulled her ponytail tighter, trying to unstick her hair from her neck. It was disgusting, but she was used to it. Not like she had to impress anyone. Keeping her appearance up was both trivial and pointless, not to mention a waist of energy. No wonder Kagome was always so tired…

"I'm taking a bath," Miroku stated. "Where is the bathhouse?"

Sango glared at him, "It _was_ in the eastern wing of the village, by my house. Kohaku and I used to bathe together in it all the time. But alas, that's another memory that has nothing to sustain it."

Miroku sweat dropped. Great. Could he be anymore of an ass today? Obviously there was no bath house, the whole village was gone. Duh.

"Then I'm going to the hot springs," Miroku improvised. Sango had, however, tuned him out by this point. He could be so infuriating sometimes! Honestly! Who the hell did he think he was? Insulting her clan like that!

Sango took a deep breath. Maybe she had been too hard on him. She was blowing this a little out of proportion. He had tried really hard to comfort her at first. And he did seem to be attracted to her for God knew what reason. Sango turned to where he had stood. She had to apologize.

But he was gone. Peculiar…

Sango sighed. She inhaled the stench of her own body. Disgusting. Even she couldn't smell this bad. For God's sake she would most likely be sleeping in the same room as Miroku. There was no way she would smell this repulsive in front of him. She had to take a bath. Sango started walking in the direction of the hot spring.

Miroku lowered himself into the warm liquid, causing it to spill over the sides of the basin. The steam layered itself onto his skin, which was turning a shade of light pink from the heat. Beads of new sweat formed on his forehead and drizzled down his neck. Miroku undid the holder binding his hair together and let his tresses fall. His black hair brushed lightly against the top of his shoulders. He ran his fingers through his hair, causing it to fall and scatter into random places. He breathed in the humid air shakily, relaxing into the unfamiliar surrounding.

Sango fought her way through the dense forest, attempting to reach her destination. She crunched branches under her feet and snapped branches with her arms. Miroku heard her approaching. Sango? No, he had told her he was going to the hot springs. There was no way in hell she would come. It had to be a demon. Miroku stood, the water splashing noisily around him. He raised his right had and clenched the smooth beads in defense.

Sango stepped into the clearing. She stared at Miroku. Miroku stared back. They blinked simultaneously at each other. Sango's gaze wandered downward. Yep. He was naked. Really naked. She blushed crimson red and shrieked. Miroku panicked. If she screamed like that a demon would surely come for them. He leaped out of the water and tackled her. He covered her mouth with his hand.

"Sango. Please calm down and stop screeching. If you continue, a demon will come."

Sango was shocked by his actions. Miroku was naked. And on top of her. She ceased her howling, but continued to blush. Miroku removed his hand from her mouth and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. She was so beautiful. Her hair had come undone and was splayed around her face, reflecting the moonlight in its brown silkiness. Her full lips were the perfect shade of pink and were pursed into an oval. Her sparkling brown eyes were absorbing the starlight, her eyelashes brushing the tops on her eye lids in an artistic form. Forgetting he was completely naked, Miroku leaned down to kiss her.

Sango's nervous system seemed to shut down. She felt paralyzed. As much as she waned to get out of the way, something was forcing her to stay put. Could it be that she _wanted _to kiss him? Impossible! He was a lecherous, perverted, womanizing idiot who only wanted to use her to bear his children. He had even asked her his infamous question, and for some reason she had agreed. But that was all she was to him. A tool. He only wanted an heir so he could leave the world with his little family legacy. If he really wanted to be with her; If he really loved her, he would ask her to marry him. Or at least confess his love to her. If he even did love her…

Tears welled in her eyes. Miroku jumped off of her. Finally realizing he was nude, he grabbed his clothes and threw them on messily. He then proceeded to crawl over to Sango and pull her up into a sitting position. Sango clenched the rough green fabric of her kimono skirt in her shaking fist. Miroku placed his wind tunnel hand on her shoulder.

"Sango what's wrong?" Miroku asked, concerned. Dumb question. He was just on her, naked, and had tried to kiss her. Stupid stupid stupid! Could he fuck the day up anymore that he already had?!

"Miroku…" Sango turned to him. One single tear escaped from her eye and slid down her cheek.

"Yes Sango?" concern crept into his voice.

"Do y-you….Do you love me?"

Miroku's mouth fell agape. How could he answer to her? Of course he did, but was that the answer she was looking for? If he told her how he felt would she be afraid? Think he was a freak? A pervert? Or did she feel the same way? Was she too, sick of playing this goddamn game? He had to put an end to it. Either he was the winner, she was the winner, or they both came out victorious. He just had to stop the game. No matter who won, he had to stop it. He only prayed that she wanted it to end the same way he did.

Miroku took her hands in his own. "Sango…" He stared into her eyes. He took a deep breath. "I love you. More than anything. You may believe that I'm a pervert or a lecher or a womanizer, and that I only want you to bear my children. But of you do think that, you are mistaken. I wanted to find the perfect woman to give me a child, someone who was both beautiful and strong. Who could uphold a mound of tragedy and suffrage, but maintain her femininity and still have a smile on her face. For I know my fate, and I wanted to make sure that the woman I chose could accept my death, but continue to live and raise my children. Of course, I wanted to love this woman with all my heart and soul as well."

He squeezed her hands tightly. "I chose you Sango. You're the strongest woman I have ever met. Not to mention the sexiest and most beautiful. You need no make up or perfumes to bewitch me and put me under your spell, for you do it without even trying. You're innocence is adorable, and I absolutely love your laugh. And even though you have experienced horrible things in your life, you still manage to lighten my day. And I want you to continue to do so for the rest of my days here on Earth. I love you Sango, and I want to spend the remainder of my life with you,"

Sango couldn't believe her ears. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes. She let them fall without hesitation. Miroku wiped them away. Shit he had fucked it up hadn't he? Damn it! She had won. She still had a chance to find new love, for she obviously didn't love him back. But he had lost. There was no way he could love another. He himself felt his eyes water.

"Miroku…." She whispered. Miroku looked up in shock. She had called him by his name.

"Yes Sango?"

"I…I love you too…"

Miroku smiled. Scratch that last. They had both won. Just as he had hoped. He embraced her and stroked her hair. Funny thing about the game of love. You can never predict the outcome.


End file.
